


How to Use Your Dog to Get a Date

by mydogfoundthechainsaw



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, Fluff, Gen, M/M, Minor Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-11
Updated: 2020-04-11
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:40:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23598496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mydogfoundthechainsaw/pseuds/mydogfoundthechainsaw
Summary: After learning Valentine is his father, Jace takes a breather from the Institute, petsitting for a de-runed Shadowhunter. Simon needs a place to crash as well, and it turns out being roommates isn't the worst thing to happen to Jace. Not that that's a high bar.
Relationships: Simon Lewis/Jace Wayland
Comments: 4
Kudos: 89





	How to Use Your Dog to Get a Date

**Author's Note:**

> Up front, definitely fudged some of the timelines -- not like they're clear in the canon anyways -- and tried not to describe too much what the show already laid out. If the characters are wildly out of character, totally apologize. Honestly just wanted to write some damn fluff and then wondered how it could've affected things.

The idea of scrubbing his mouth out with soap has never seemed more appealing. Clary is his sister. Valentine is his father. Has been, all along, even raised him. He has to focus on Clary to avoid thinking too hard about Michael Wayland.

But Clary’s there, explaining how she knew his dad was off. And he can’t, right now. Can’t think about how he didn’t realize, for all those years, and Clary figured it out in what, a few days. He wants to hit something. Maybe next time around he will actually kill his — their, god — dad.

Getting back to the institute, everything seems foreign. Alec must’ve felt like this, like the pranks he pulled as a kid, moving everything an inch to the left just to watch everyone hit their shins. 

He goes to the debriefing, smiles weakly at Isabelle and Alec, and stares a thousand yards ahead otherwise. When it's over, Clary tries to pull him aside. He lets her — goes to a hallway where they’ll be interrupted any minute. 

“I’m fine,” he says.

Clary looks at him like she always does when he says something particularly Shadowhunter-esque, like she wants to put him back together but knows it’s too late. “You don’t have to be, you know. You didn’t know. It’s  _ okay _ to have emotions about this, Jace.”

“Like what? A fucked up love for my sister? Not killing the genocidal maniac that is my father? I can’t, Clary,” he replies, focusing all his weight down to stop his feet from leaving. 

“Jace, you didn’t know. You couldn’t —”

“Don’t,” He says, voice cracking. “Please.

He leaves, then, and stumbles back to his room, because as much as he wants to hit something, everyone is staring, and he can’t. Is this how Clary’s felt, how Alec did? Alec finds him, quickly though, and crawls into the bed with him. He’s reminded of better times, years ago. They sit there, for a while, and he fixates on Alec’s breathing until he’s right, again.

“Izzy’s been bothering me to go on a date with Magnus.”

This is the most real Alec has ever gotten, and he appreciates the diversion, whatever it costs his  _ parabati _ . “She trying to get you to give up the self-sacrificing Lydia plan? Can’t say I blame her.”

“I have to.”

He shoves Alec lightly. “Well do it for me then. I can’t deal with the repressed sad through the bond forever. It would kill me too. Unless you want him to use your ‘virgin Shadowhunter energy’ forever.”

“What?”

Magnus’s never told him. They end up laughing about it, Alec red and slightly perturbed, but loving it.

When he calms down, Alec rolls onto his back and asks, “What’s the plan?”

“I can’t be here, right now.”

“Go see Angela.”

“Her dog is a nightmare,” he replies, because the dog is extremely idiotic. 

Alec hits him, so he gets out his phone and calls her. “Hey Jace! I was just about to call you. Want to watch Patton?”

Angela’s never quite left being a Shadowhunter behind; the ability to get down to business is one of them. “Sure,” he agrees, glaring at Alec, who’s holding back a laugh. “Can I crash there too?”

Angela hollars to her husband, who approves, and then replies, “You can stay. We’re going for two or so weeks. Everything okay?”

He hums in reply, and leads her onto basic pleasantries. They’re friends, even though law technically says she can’t ask them for help anymore, and thus he rarely hears from her. When they end the call, he turns to Alec. “I’ve got a room for a bit.”

“Planning on having another house party?”

“Shut up, Alec.”

He does, and at some point, they must’ve fallen asleep, because they wake up later, curled towards each other. Some things never change at least.

Izzy knows in the morning, and makes him promise to take lots of pictures of Patton, which he pretends is a hard bargain. The dog is the reason he has a cloud storage account. Lydia is hesitant at first, probably thinking about the law and Valentine, but once she realizes Angela’s house is incredibly warded, she lets him go with only a promise of a daily check-in and patrols.

Finally, he finds Clary. He knows where she is, a symptom of what he thought was love but has turned out to be shared blood. She starts when he enters her room, looks at his bag and her face is a question.

“Staying in a friend’s,” he offers, “a de-runed Shadowhunter. Needs someone to watch her dog. Just need some breathing room.”

“Be safe?” She asks, and reaches out to his shoulder. “Let me know if you need anything.”

He nods and goes in for a hug because he hates himself. 

———————

Patton is ecstatic to see him, and because he is incredibly stupid, he continues to falsely believe he’s a small dog, not a full-grown German Shepard. Jace only barely avoids falling over. Immediately, he feels better. It’s hard to have too many thoughts when dealing with Patton.

Patton ends up distracting him for the rest of the day; he plans to return the dog so spoiled by walks that Angela can hardly stand him. After an evening run and some dinner, he briefly goes on patrol and then crashes. He already knows he’s going to dream of Valentine and Clary and everything, but if he fucks himself up enough, he won’t remember them.

Three days pass like this, blending into another in a way he doesn’t remember in the Institute. Alec comes over before his first date, having carved out some time, fretting and nervous. It’s cute, though, and gives him blackmail material when Alec doesn’t go home for the night. Izzy takes a bunch of pictures with Patton in the park, making him wonder how mundanes survive, but he can’t think about his father with her constantly yelling directions at him. 

Then, Clary calls. He ignores it until the last ring, then picks up, hating himself. Either way, really, so might as well be of use. “Hey. Hi. How are you?”

“Good,” which almost isn’t even a lie; Patton is curled up next to him, head on his lap, and they’re watching some stupid singing show. “You?”

“Good. I hate to ask, but can you let Simon stay with you for a bit? He’s got nowhere — Luke would but the pack hates him.”

He thinks of Simon, talkative and awkward and just on the right edge of annoying, interrupting his peace and quiet, reminding him constantly of Clary. And then he thinks of Angela, and of Simon going through it too, and hears himself agreeing.

“Thank you, Jace! He promises to be quiet.”

Simon, quiet, is an oxymoron, but as long as he doesn’t plan to bite him, it’s safe. It’ll add something else to the mix, another distraction so maybe his head quiets down. It’s worked before. So he gives Clary the address and she promises he’ll be over soon.

Once the call ends, he scratches Patton’s head harder for a minute and then changes the channel. If Simon catches him watching this, he’ll never live it down. But not much on the channels are good, and Angela’s cabinet is full of embarrassing movies. Which is why, when Simon knocks on the door twenty minutes later, he’s watching some superhero movie.

Patton loses his mind over the prospect of two people petting him, seemingly unphased by Simon being dead. Simon, in response, is on the floor, cooing to the dog and getting soaked by saliva. He’s so  _ soft _ , utterly weak for what he is, and Jace wants what he has, sometimes. And because he’s weak too, he grabs some treats and passes them to Simon. They continue to pet Patton, hands brushing occasionally, and he doesn’t think about how cold Simon is now. Until Patton decides it’s now play time, and goes to get his toy.

“So that’s Patton,” he says, because he’s not always cool. “I'll show you the rest of the house while he’s distracted.”

The place isn’t big, but one thing he hadn’t considered is the lack of space. Using the master bedroom seems sacreligious to both of them, and the living room gets too much light, so they agree to later discuss sharing the spare. He’s not sure it’ll work out, but he already said yes.

By the time it’s over, it’s time for patrol. Simon offers to follow him, and an awkward stitled gesture to make up for the kindness. But he’s still a liability, so he goes off alone.

When he gets back, Simon’s made food. Baked goods he’s sadly staring at, and Patton is drooling.

“I can’t tell if they’re good anymore,” he says, mournfully. 

Growing up, he’s used to snapping at the chance for any decent food, so once he’s got one in his mouth, he remembers to compliment Simon. “Surprisingly good. I wouldn’t have even believed you made them.”

Simon’s fangs are out as he speaks, but he doesn’t miss the small smile that pops up. “You know I made these of my own free will Jace. I can and will destroy them too.”

He grins back at him, and grabs a cookie to throw at the dog. Simon’s hand snaps out, vampire fast, and the cookies end up on the floor. Then a muffin hits him in the face, and there’s blueberry juice on his cheek, and he throws himself at the vampire. It’s not calculated or smart or pretty, but it’s different — his blood is pumping like it hasn’t in a while. Since Valentine.

They tussle, Simon surviving only on reflexes and strength, until Simon’s on top of him, and he rubberbands back to reality. Simon’s fangs are still out, his pupils blown, and Simon’s staring at his neck, and he can’t tell if it’s becuase he wants to bite him or fuck him or both, but he doesn’t think Simon swings that way.

“Hey. Hey,” he says, artificially calm. “How do you feel about a movie?”

Simon sits back, still pining him in a way another Jace would say felt too good, but looks elsewhere. “I almost...I can hear you. All the time. And your blood smells  _ different _ .”

“It’s the angel blood,” he says, matter-of-fact, like Simon hadn’t just admitted it. “C’mon. I don’t want to kick your ass and bring it up later to Raphael to embarrass you. Get up.”

Simon pulls him up, still awkward and ungraceful, even with his new strength. They clean up the kitchen quietly, though Patton has eaten a few. He follows Simon over to the couch, watching carefully. Doesn’t feel unsafe, just on the right side of alive, of intrigued by the puzzle and living on the adrenaline —he’d known Simon before and can’t imagine him as threatening. His father would disapprove. Maybe that’s part of it. Maybe it’s that Simon looks startling good without his glasses, something he wouldn’t let himself admit before, when there was a perfectly good woman in front of him. Maybe one day, he’ll figure out exactly what’s going on in his life.

Somehow, then, they end up shoulder to shoulder, leaning too close on the too small couch, because Patton decided they were lame. With some stupid space movie going on that he hasn’t fully caught yet, but expects Simon to explain to him later. 

It’s way too late by the time the movie ends, and he’s glad for the fuck up of his schedule. “I’ll take the couch,” Simon offers when he starts heading to the bedroom.

“As much as I’d love for you to fry in the sunlight, Clary would kill me, so no. You can fit. It’s a big bed.”

Simon stares at him for a minute, then laughs. “You’re kidding me, right?”

Jace smirks, but he’s committed, too late. “You gonna survive a night with my delicious blood right next to you?”

Simon rolls his eyes and shoves him, a little too hard. Still hadn’t quite figured that out yet. “Your stunning personality cancels that out for me. You really gotta work on that man.”

The bed should be big enough for both of them, and comfy too. Except Patton’s gotten used to sleeping with him, taking up the window side of the bed. He moves to wake the dog and push him off, but Simon grabs his arm. 

“Don’t. He’s too cute, look at him.”

“Everyone is too damn soft for this dog. I want the bed. And there’s nowhere else you can selep, Simon.”

Simon sighs, then lifts Patton and puts him at the edge of the bed. It’s still going to be uncomfortable and shitty, but at least Simon won’t be pressed against his back, a cool block of things he doesn’t want to think about. Although he’s certain Simon is the type of person to starfish.

As they lay there, separate as far as possible, but still entirely awake, Simon coughs. “You still awake, Jace? I can hear your heartbeat and I think you are but I’m still getting – “ he stops after Jace hums, and then continues. “You and Clary look nothing alike. Which is weird because like genetics can be random, but also, I would’ve thought something passed over.”

Mundane science was always Izzy’s thing, but it’s not Simon’s either. “I thought that stuff was still random.”

Simon hums, then turns to him. “It’s tearing Clary up, everything she’s dealt with, and now you too. And it’s just….it’s so fucking convinent. Like did he just watch Star Wars and decide  _ now _ was the time? I just want her not to feel like this.”

It’s pretty convenient Valentine raised him for years without him knowing, so it’s not out of the realm of possibility, but he says something else instead. “Isn’t this what you want, anyways, Clary? You can’t tell me you’re not happy.”

He wants to get up and hit something now. The stupid film had got him to a different place, and here’s Simon, draggin him back to shitty earth. If Simon could stop interfering, they’d be somewhere else right now, not in this too small fucking bed. He starts to sit up — Patton wouldn’t be opposed to a run right now, probably — but Simon grabs him by the shoulder and pushes him back down. 

“It’s not what I want,” Simon says, a whisper and too close. It’s a dream that’s nice to cling to, and I hated her with you, you were everything I thought I hated,” Simon replies, looking in his eyes the entire time, and Jace is pretty sure that with anyone else, not blinking would be terrifying. “But I don’t like her hurting, and I just don’t think we should trust Valentine’s word for everything.”

It doesn’t help now, to know he has no competition, but some part of him is glad Clarry won’t get immediately gobbled up by Simon. But he still wants Simon to shut up. “He still raised me. I’m a time bomb, vampire.”

“Life isn’t the Manchurian candidate,” Simon says, which is just confusing. “You’re not a fucking robot, Jace, even if you are obnoxious. Don’t fall for everything he says, and we’ll check in on it.”

Simon’s rubbing circles on his shoulder, and it’s so much like Clary’s tactile nature it calms him down. So he keeps breathing and asks if Simon will help. It’s not like Simon would’ve shut up, anyways. Of course, Simon says yes and then tells him a plan — which means he’s been thinking of this for a while — and tells him he’ll start tomorrow.

Simon’s still dead when he goes to the Institute in the morning. Clary meets him first, asking if he’s tried to kill Simon yet. He remembers their fight, then shakes his head. “We watched Star Wars and he made muffins.”

“Those weird blueberry ones?” Clary asks, with a smile, and he should feel worse for not telling her about their pact, but he doesn’t.

“I’ll bring some next time.”

She nods. “Deal. Izzy and Lydia would love that, too.”

They go to work, and it’s fine. The world’s still moved, but he’s getting used to it. When he starts thinking too much about it, he flips open a video of Patton or a picture of his family and breathes like Alec made him, years ago. Maybe he can take a page from Simon’s book and move on. He’s used to adding new family to his life; he can make Clary one of them.

He waits to take Patton for a walk until after it’s dark. Simon complains, but comes, and decides to spend the rest of the walk explaining why he should care more about fantasy. It doesn’t work, but trying to follow his logic and learn about all the bullshit pop culture he’s missed his entire life does help. Simon even throws in a story about the Manchurian Candidate, without prompting.

When they’re back, Simon turns to him, concerned. “You let me rant about Star Wars for an hour, and not once did you call me a nerd. I’m not saying I don’t appreciate it, but it’s not in character for you.”

Mostly because it was the sort of calm lulling he needs, but god. Those aren’t words he can say, especially to Simon, so instead, he says, “I just blocked it out; I learned how to do that a long time ago with your voice. As soon as I heard you talk about Luke…..something, I just stopped listening.”

Simon shakes his head, and he almost wants to admit he could recite the entire plot now, but doesn’t. “We’re going to have to watch them all now. They’re cultural masterpieces, Jace. I know you Shadowhunters are all about hating mundanes, but seriously. What do you do in your free time?”

“Train. Something you should’ve done — maybe you wouldn’t have been kidnapped so much.”

“Hey! I’m working on it now. I’m stronger too.”

He’s still pretty sure he could beat up Simon, but he lets it slide. That’s a discussion for another night. It’s his bedtime, though, and it’s definitely Simon’s time to shine, so he excuses himself and expects Simon to be working. Not that he hopes he's Simon will solve his problem, but it wouldn’t be unappreciated. Instead, he finds Simon reading a book on the bed after he gets out of the shower. Simon stares for a beat too long, mouth parted, then says, “Is it weird if I try to keep a human schedule sometimes? Raphael says it's holding me back from being a good vampire, but I just...it’s not like I need a lot of sleep...it's just the city feels dead.”

“You could do things during the night, at least,” he replies, carefully avoiding the question, because yes, Simon is the world’s lamest, weirdest vampire, and he wonders how he got stuck with him. At least the question means Simon still isn’t staring at him. Which was weird.

Simom sighs, getting up, and he finds himself staring. “It’s not weird. Not sure I‘d wanna stay up and hang out with Raphael either. We’re not letting Patton in here tonight, though.”

Simon didn’t smile, but if he was a smarter man, he’d stop and think about what he was doing. Instead, he texts Clary —  _ your vampire's a loser. _

She texts back immediately —  _ but he’s my loser. urs now too. Look what your sis made me do. _

It’s a picture of three canvases and some wine. He’s unclear if the third is for Alec or Lydia. Sounds like they’re having fun, and he’s here, pretending to be a mundane, sleeping in the same bed as a new vampire and trying to forget who his father is. It’s always too quiet at night. Even Simon.

The worst part about Simon being undead is he hasn’t warmed up the sheets at all. “So are you planning on sharing the beauty of fantasy with Max? He’s at the perfect age to fall into it.”

Simon says this like they talk about Max all the time, or are actually close. Except he hasn’t, and he’s not sure why Simon brings it up, other than his inability to stay quiet. But Max has never known much normal, unless Izzy showed him that one cartoon from their childhood. “I don’t want him growing up to be like you,” he says. “But he’d like the lightsabers, and the Force is pretty cool.”

A few days pass like this. Simon becomes a constant companion in his life, who for some reasons takes the time to educate him on everything during their walks and steals a DNA sample from him — for science, although he doesn’t understand. Alec goes on at least one date — he knows he’s being lied to about what happened during it, but at least he’s happy — and doesn’t question any of his new references or where he’s getting good food from. Izzy accompanies them on precisely one walk, mostly petting Patton, and afterwards, tells him she cannot do their bullshit anymore. Luke even comes over to check on Simon and then decides to tiptoe around the Valentine situation in a way he understands. It helps, almost. Magnus also checks on Simon, but he uses it as an excuse to threaten him if he hurts his brother. Magus rolls his eyes, initially, but when Simon joins in, he starts laughing, complaining about adopting all the wrong kinds of people. 

Then it’s back to the real world. At least it’s not threatening, this time around. It’s Alec, getting married, because as much as he has enjoyed his dates with Magnus — he knows that much, through the bond — he never inherited the fuck-the-rules attitude of Izzy and him. Maybe because he always had to clean up after them.

Izzy throws herself into the planning, so it shouldn’t be as much of a surprise when he comes home to a dark, blacked out house, with Izzy, Clary, and Simon on the couch, chatting about things. He freezes, wants to run. Clary looks like she might, too. 

Then Simon starts talking, asking his opinion on Alec’s favorite colors and what would go best with Lydia and Alec’s skin tones and hair. Which he knows is unnecessary, given they have a literal artist in the room, but these are hard questions that distract him. Clary disagrees with him, and they have a brief argument that almost feels normal. 

It takes them an hour or two; but they come to an agreement. He’s sure it’ll look amazing, but he’s also sure it’s the worst possible decision. But that’s for Alec to figure out. Then, Clary asks, whisper quiet, not looking at anyone, “Should we invite Magnus?”

There’s too much silence there. No one teaches you how to deal with unrequited love and arranged marriages. Simon, unsurprisingly, speaks up first. “Do Shadowhunters have that, ‘speak now or forever hold your piece’ bit? It would definitely satisfy Magnus’s flair for the dramatic; not saying I wouldn’t do it myself. If I had a secret boyfriend, I mean.”

“You’ve never had a secret boyfriend in your life, Simon,” Clary says, shoving him. “But that seems like the sort of drama Alec wouldn’t want.”

“She’s right. Alec would have a panic attack if that happened, especially in front of Maryse and Robert.” If he doesn’t think about it, saying those names doesn’t hurt him. Or maybe it’s Simon, casually squeezing his shoulder.

“I can’t let Alec throw away the rest of his life. Not that way.”

None of them reply to Izzy’s comment, a tacit agreement, a pact of hoping they can drag Alec out of his hole before he signs his death wish. For once, he hopes Clary’s force will rub off on Alec. 

With that conversation over, he expects the two girls to be off, doing whatever they plan on doing for their nights, which have, he must admit, been cooler than his and Simon’s. Not that he’s jealous — it’s just. But then Simon asks if they want to grab dinner, and it is late, dark outside, so he finds him and Clary following Simon and Izzy, who are being dragged by Patton as they discuss something. Possibly how terrible men are. Turns out Simon’s probably not straight.

“He’s not driving you crazy, is he?”

“Simon? He’s trying his best, but I did grow up with Izzy. I’m used to strong personalities. It’s been nice, not to be in the Institute.”

“Do you think you’ll want to get something out here, once this is all over?”

He mulls it over, for a minute. Something he’s never let himself think about, but it’s been done. It would take some effort, but pretending to be a mundane isn’t the worst thing he’s done. He’s standing next to one of those mistakes. He shakes himself out of that, then answers, “Yeah. Might need a roommate though. Not like they give us a lot of money.”

“You’ve got one now that seems to be working out,” Clary nods ahead of them.

He laughs, and then distracts her by asking about their painting night. For a little while, they’re friends, siblings, and he’s asking about nothing exciting.

After the check is paid, the girls give them both hugs and wave them goodbye. When they’re off, Simon studies his face carefully. “I didn’t think, man. About inviting them out for dinner. Clary, I mean. I know it has to be hard, seeing her, after all of this, and I should —”

“No. It was the right thing to do,” he interrupts. “Gotta start pretending to be Luke and Leia instead of Leia and Han eventually, right?”

Now Simon is really staring. “Did you just reference what I thought you did? Did I...oh my god…”

Simon drifts off, staring into the night with a smile on his face, and this, this is how he gets the other man to shut up. It’s a good feeling, light butterflies in his stomach and now’s not the time to think too much further about why that is. 

Alec shows up bright and early the next morning. Not shows up — he’s waiting in the living room when Jace stumbles out of the bedroom. He feels mildly stressed, which is not a new mood for Alec, but he also knows how hard it is for the other man to try at these sorts of things. 

“Coffee? Simon made some decent waffles yesterday, there should be some leftover,” he says as he scrounges around for coffee. 

Alec looks a little concerned — he’s probably never had Simon’s cooking, Jace realizes — so he just heats them up anyways. There’s a plate in front of both of them when Simon stumbles out of the bedroom as well, looking, well like Simon looks in the morning. Like a confused, bedheaded vampire who’s also, coincidentally, shirtless. Alec looks at Simon, tilts his head, and then stares at Jace. He can feel the confusion in the bond; it doesn’t help that Simon immediately goes red and zooms back into the bedroom. 

“If I didn’t know you better, I’d have more questions,” Alec says, smiling, and it’s fine. “Mostly about your taste.”

“He’s not the worst vampire,” he replies — because Simon isn’t here so he can say real things — and then adds, to Alec’s raised eyebrows, “Well, he’s a terrible vampire, but he’s not the worst person. I could do worse.”

Why is he saying these words? Simon is almost certainly listening in, and Alec is staring at his waffles with too much intensity. “My wedding’s tomorrow.”

He nods and busys himself. He’s not going to start a fight right now.

“Will you be up there on the altar with me?”

It takes the air out his lungs for a second. “Of course.”

Alec nods and they start eating. It’s a calm morning, like they’re kids again. After breakfast, Alec gives him a brief hug and leaves. It’s only then that Simon appears. 

“I’m not the worst? That’s the sweetest thing you’ve ever said to me,” he says, instantly, a smirk on his face.

“Shut  _ up _ , Simon.”

“I’m just saying, you could do worse than me. Of course, I wouldn’t fall for it, but…”

“I could definitely seduce you,” which is true. Simon is getting over his head over heels for Clary — weird that they both are — but he seems like the type to fall too easily. 

Simon stares at him for a beat too long, unnaturally still and he’s reminded that the other man is a predator. Even if he’s a shitty one. 

So it totally makes sense that he says, “C’mon. We’re making you a less shitty vampire.”

Simon still looks confused, but they’re in safer territory again.

Which is why he spends the day up to Alec’s wedding training Simon. It’s as fun as it’s annoying, but Simon tries, even if he’s clumsier than he should be as a vampire. 

The Institute has been done over for the wedding, and it’s been a long time since one of these because everyone is excited. Simon looks the same shade of nervous he always is when entering, like he’ll be locked up immediately. He runs his shoulder into the other man and smiles. “Everyone’s gonna lose their shit when Magnus comes in here for Alec.”

Simon smiles, soft and bright and hopeful — and he doesn’t know when he liked that. “Makes you wish you had a warlock boyfriend of your own.”

“We could find ourselves one.”

Simon stares, again. But they’re too close to the door for him to dig into that one. 

The ceremony goes better than he thought it would; at the end of the day, he wasn’t sure Alec would do something for himself for once. It ends, for him, at least, with him and Clary. Simon has wandered off somewhere, probably on purpose, since he said they were walking home together, and he’s here, with the girl of his once dreams and everything’s weirdly, okay. 

“That was just as extra as we’d hoped,” she says, with a smile. “I’m actually starting to feel like we might all be okay.”

“Minus the whole impending apocalypse, I’d agree,” he replies, and feeling bold, adds, “Simon doesn’t buy Valentine’s schtick about us being siblings.”

“He asked me for a DNA sample last week. But Jace...whatever the results are, it doesn’t have to change anything between us.”

It takes him a bit to figure out what she means, but it isn’t the most surprising thing ever. Adjusting to life without Clary has been easier than it should’ve been. She’s still his, just in a different sense of the word, and he figures it should tear him up a little more inside otherwise. “I’m not changing my name if we’re wrong. I’ve already done it enough.”

Then Magnus takes them to Ragnor Fell’s and things go to shit. He wishes they’d done things just an inch differently, to avoid Magnus going from such a high to such a low. Simon’s waiting for them when they get back, talking to a random Shadowhunter about something. When he gets into earshot, he realizes it’s an argument about a TV show, and he basically growls at the other hunter to leave. 

Simon opens his mouth, about to say something, then closes it, bites his lip, and moves. He should be more used to the man’s speed by now, but he’s not used to this. Simon’s hugging him. It’s cold and weird — he can feel the other man not breathing, heart still and quiet — but he lets it happen anyways. Doesn’t hug back though. That might be too much.

He tells Simon what happened once they detangle, and Simon’s all ready to help. Because Simon is the world’s worst vampire, but it works, for him. 

—————-

Then it’s time to go find Camile, and Jace regrets taking Simon up on the offer. They have to end the whole thing, wake up Joceyln and everything else that comes with it, but this. This leaves him feeling like they’re back where they started. Where, if he’d just made a move differently, Simon wouldn’t have ended up hers and maybe a few other things along the way. Butterflies in the Philippines. 

It doesn’t help that Camile’s fucking annoying. He’s not sure why Magnus put up with her. But then she’s asking, for some letter that’ll lie about what she did to Simon, made the stupid little geek a immortal killing machine and he’s. He’s got her shoved against the wall before he can think. 

“Where is it?” he growls, feeling the flicker of electricity run down his spine, a charge so unlike the steele he can tell when it hits Camile. She knows how deep blood runs. 

It buys them from giving her a get-out-of-jail free card; he pretends to ignore Simon bumping up against him, in the small way Simon is pleased by things. He’s not sure it’ll work again, but soon, it doesn’t matter. They have the book. Clary’s looking at it like salvation and he realizes he wants to hug her and that’s it. Something worked its way out of his blood.

Then something shudders behind him, and he  _ knows. _ There’s Valentine. He knows the choice almost instantly, and sees when it breaks across Alec’s face too. Sometimes there’s a natural progression of events. He gets one last look at the others before the portal closes. Doesn’t know why, he knows it’s gonna hurt. 

It does.

——-------—

HIs father, of course, immediately brings up his blood. With whatever happened with Camile fresh in his mind, he knows he’s right. Jace is some fucked-up half breed raised to be the perfect destruction of the Clave. 

The story fits perfectly.

Except eventually Simon’s words on the first night come back to him. It’s too perfect. He hadn’t got the results back yet, and probably never would. But Simon? Simon’s not what his father hates. Softer than Jace is, really. 

But he listens, follows, because that’s all Jace has ever been able to do with his father. It’s an undeniable pull he hates, and when they show up at some random vampire den, he should really be more surprised. 

It says more than he’d like that his father leaves him down there, in the dark all alone. He knows Jace won’t call the Clave the second his back is turned because his father’s not totally wrong about the whole thing. Doesn’t mean he can find it within himself to be the perfect soldier, but when his father’s concerned? It’s a question of when.

He stands there, knowing the vampires will wake soon, when he feels something appear in the room. He turns and almost runs into Simon. Simon, who’s got Jace’s favorite shirt clutched in one hand, looking both guilty and concerned. Simon, whose movement has startled the other vampires.

Choice made for him, Jace deals with them as quickly as he can, mindful of the extremely useless vampire hiding in the shadows. 

“What are you doing here, Simon? Valentine could kill you,” he asks, as another one turns to ash.

“You’d. You’d protect me,” Simon says, ending the statement confidently. “I just. I wanted to bring you home, Jace. Clary, everybody misses you and there’s no reason to stay with Valentine because you’re not  _ his _ kind of asshole. And I was looking for you and you were nearby and I just. Come home. Patton wants daytime walks, man.”

Simon says all of this in a rushed, Simon pace, during which Jace kills the rest of the hive. His father will come knocking soon, and that’s a choice he can’t have made for him. So he laughs and asks, “What’s the plan for getting out of here? You won’t make it past him a second time.”

ˇRunning really fast out the other way?” 

“And me?”

“I could carry you. A piggyback ride might be the easiest so I don’t run you into things but I think…”

It is a categorically shitty plan, but he’s a Shadowhunter with little time. That’s how it is. So he nods with a deep sigh to let Simon know exactly what he thinks of the plan.

Being on top of Simon is an unique experience Jace will think more about later. He still expects the other man’s heart to beat, to breathe, but he’s a cool, solid presence. And soon, he’s going too fast to think of much else. 

Their escape does alert his father — he hears Valentine screaming after them, and Simon has to dodge to avoid a weapon — but they get out. Simon finally stops running after about ten minutes, in a park somewhere that’s just foresty enough to feel safe. Jace starts laughing and can’t stop; after looking concerned for a minute, Simon does too.

“He’s going to be so pissed off,” he finally gets out. “His son just ran off with a vampire.”

“Hey! It was more like you rode me…” Simon drifts off and he learns that vampires can still blush. “That was easier than I thought it would be. Thought you’d argue more, some woe-is-me Jace bullshit I’d have to yell at you about.”

The woe-is-me bullshit is yet to come, he almost warns Simon. But he goes with the easier truth. “Clary would be angry if I’d let you die, vampire. But Valentine — ” and he almost can’t finish it but he does, he has to know, “he put demon blood in me as a child. I’m. What does that make me?”

Simon’s quiet for a second, and Jace wants to run. Then finally, as if dealing with a spooked animal, Simon edges closer and softly replies, “You do realize even if you’ve got demon blood, I’m a vampire, right? Might not be Spike-level but I’m no angel either.”

“I was raised by Valentine!” he yells, and he can feel the power of it running hot through his body. That’s what Camile was afraid of, and maybe Simon will run too. “He spent years raising me, grooming me, to complement what he put in my veins and you’re going to tell me what, I’m not a fucking monster?”

He wants to say more, what he doesn't know, but Simon’s got him in a hug, and it’s kind of difficult to yell into someone’s shoulder. All soft, near his ear, Simon replies, “You’d never listen to me anyways, but Jace, someone who was a monster would’ve let me die back there.” There’s a beat, where Simon lets him digest that, and then he asks, “When I let you go, are you going to run back to him?”

It strikes him that he hadn’t really considered that option until Simon asks. Simon had him now, that’s how things were. So he shakes his head and when Simon steps back, he’s smiling. “G--damnit,” Simon says, because Simon refuses to believe he can’t properly take the Lord’s name in vain, “if you’re Luke in this situation, what am I?”

“Sure as hell not Han.”

Simon shoves him, careful of his strength this time, and they go find a park bench, where Simon puts Alec on speakerphone. Alec answers almost instantly, sounding more gruff and annoyed than he’d thought possible.

“You want your annoying brother back?” Simon asks, without preamble, and he can hear Alec sputter on the other end of the line.

“What? You found him?” Because of course the Clave had put everything into finding him, but Simon, apparently, knows his scent too well. He manages a hey in response, unable to put into words how sorry he is for leaving. Even if it saved them all.

“Yeah we’re sitting in a park, a mile east of —”

“Simon shut up. The Clave sent a representative here, and he’s branded Jace a criminal. Wanted dead or alive.”

It’s not really a surprise. It still hurts, though, and he’s aware Simon’s rubbing comforting circles on his back. 

“Did Clary’s — our mom — wake up?”

“Yeah, she...yeah she woke up,” Alec replies, and there’s more to that story but getting her alive is all he’s really cared about. “Thank you, Simon, for finding him.”

“Anytime. Any word on when the Clave might rescind their kill order?”

“Jace brings in Valentine or proves his loyalty. Keep me updated, and I’ll let Aldertree know you’re no longer with him.”

The call ends, and Simon looks at him. Simon’s mad, he realizes. “They...you went with him to protect us. They have to know that.”

Sometimes he forgets Simon doesn’t know their world very well. There’s a thousand reasons as to why the Clave has done what it’s done, but Simon will never get that. So he stays quiet and stands, and Simon stands, after a moment. “So we’re fugitives now. That’s...that’s pretty cool.”

He knows fighting Simon on this point will be a useless war, so he lets the man continue. “We should get Magnus to keep us off the radar until we can get Valentine.”

“And find a place to sleep. Sun’ll be up soon.”

Simon smiles at him again, a different one this time that he wishes he knew the meaning to, but they start heading for the city, for some shitty place they can hide where only Magnus can find them. 

They end up in a building still in construction, because it’s on the other side of the city from all the Clave, and Simon knows the area. Magnus looks personally affronted to have to come to such a place, and says as much when he walks up.

He hands them charms without preamble, ones that drape over their necks stupidly, but he can feel the magic in them. “So you plan on staying with him, Simon?”

“Someone’s got to stop him from running back to Valentine to ‘save us all’,” Simon replies, only slightly sarcastically. 

“They could punish you for aiding a known criminal. It’d be within the bounds of the Accords,”

“What are you doing, then? Eventually they’ll realize he’s not that much of an asshole and it’ll be fine.”

“Not that much of an asshole?” Magnus asks, too knowing of a smile in his eyes. “Well, if you’re convinced, dear Simon, I won’t hold it against you. I might need your help very soon, with a Camile problem.”

With that, he’s gone. As is his last chance of getting rid of Simon. He’s got a sure roommate, if this ever resolves. The man’s doing too much for him, and he wants to hate it but instead he’s just grateful. 

They manage to procure something that looks like it could be comfortable when the sun finally comes up. The tiredness hits him when Simon lays down, stretches his awkward limbs. Their eyes connect for a moment, and Simon moves over. “Get over and sleep, Shadowhunter.”

So that’s how he ends up with a vampire curled into him. There’s not a lot of room on their bed, so it makes sense. It’s just not how he imagined his life occuring, at any point. But he’s tired and Simon’s the sort of heavy he doesn’t feel cruel enough to move, so he lets sleep claim him too. 

He wakes up knowing Magnus is nearby again. Knows the man’s scent from Alec, he thinks, and then realizes he has a drooling vampire starfished onto him. Feeling braver than he should, he cracks his eyes open, to where Magnus is standing in a corner, looking utterly bored, but, he guesses, smiling inside. With a nod, the other man walks to a different room, and he uses that to get Simon awake. 

Simon bolts up, blushes incredibly red, and then Magnus is in the room again. He claps his hands and tells them Raphael’s being hounded for Camile’s escape. Looking incredibly guilty, Simon agrees to help without even hearing what’s needed, so Jace is to.

Which is how they end up in Camile’s Indian residence, looking for anything to bring her back. They seperate, which makes his skin crawl. Not because of whatever Magnus thinks — the man keeps giving him sly smirks and eyebrow raises with every interaction — but because he’s worried the vampire will go and do something stupid. And his whole running away from Valentine will have been useless. 

Turns out, he was almost right. Simon doesn’t die; he’s got some spunk in him after all, but still. Wouldn’t have happened if he was there. But it seems to have solved whatever problem Magnus needed it to, so he drops them back at their place with a wave.

Almost sun-up again, and now he’s running on vampire time. Like the fucked up demon-blooded thing he is. He manages to say this aloud, because Simon’s looking at him, angry again. 

“You’re not fucking evil, Jace. Is Magnus evil? You want to go tell that to Alec, because I’m sure that’ll go over well.”

“I’m a Shadowhunter, Simon. I’m supposed to be pure, perfect. I’m not - I can’t have this —”

“Well from where I stand most of your kind is pretty fucking shitty, man. Have you not seen how they treat Alec? Clary? Anybody different?” Simon asks, and they’re way too close. Close enough for a punch, but Simon wouldn’t do that to him. “Cool, you’ve got demon blood. You can probably do some dope shit with it, and kill demons better. But I’m not letting you go back to him, and I’m not letting you turn yourself in for death.”

Which is so utterly stupid he wants to punch Simon now. Instead, he asks why. Simon sighs deeply and looks down. It takes him a while, but he finally says, “Just me being stubborn.”

There’s a pit in his stomach that if he looked hard enough, would be looking for a different answer. But they both look miserable, he’s sure, and it’s too close to sunrise, so he replies, “You might be Han after all.”

“Does that make Luke Chewbacca?” Simon’s smiling, devilishly, and they both start laughing.

“Tell him that to his face, vampire. C’mon. Let’s get some sleep.”

Luckily, there’s no judgemental Magnus to wake him up this time around. This time around, he’s curled into Simon, who’s still asleep when he wakes up. He hopes. This is already awkward enough without Simon waking up to something sticking him in the side. It’s easier, though, to get out without, waking Simon up too much. Because it’s perfectly normal to wake up like this with a friend. 

He’s starting to try and avoid thinking about all of this — which is easy with all the other chaos going on in his life right now — when Simon’s phone rings, startling the both of them. He answers it, because Simon still looks half-out of it, and it’s Alec.

“Clary’s missing. And Valentine’s probably got her.”

This is  _ his  _ fault. He went back on his deal and Valentine did too. Fuck. Clary.

“We’ll get her,” says Simon, startling him because he’d apparently froze for a moment. 

“Might get you a good word with Aldertree. Just be careful. Especially if you drag Simon along, Jace.”

Simon is not coming along. That is a one-way ticket to Simon being dead at the hands of his father, and that is something he cannot live with. But Alec has already hung up the phone and Simon has started to straighten up, get ready.

“You think you can find where Valentine is? I can get us in and out before daybreak.”

“Simon, you’re not coming with me. It’s too dangerous.”

“And somehow going in alone is going to be easier. Yes, use that big Shadowhunter brain for good.”

“You have minimal combat training and everyone on that ship is going to see any Downworlder as a threat to be extinguished! If you get on that ship you’re going to die, Simon.”

“Here I thought I was already dead,” Simon retorts, “Clary’s my best friend, Jace. I can’t let her just rot away there to die, and you need backup. I’m not losing you too.”

Some part of his brain wonders how he became Simon’s, but that’s not the point. Simon is being a stupid, stubborn idiot. “You think Clary would be happy if she knew I let you risk your life like that? Your mom wouldn’t be happy, either.”

Something like anger flashes across Simon’s face. “Don’t. I’m coming with you. I can get us to the ship quicker than you can, and given that I could find you when the Clave didn’t, I’ll bet I can find wherever he has her quicker than you too.”

“Simon,” he starts, thinking of ways to incapacitate the other man, make him stay. And then he just shuts up. He’d do anything for Alec, so he can’t blame Simon too much. Sighing, he starts again. “Let’s go. We’ll have to steal a boat to get close to the damn thing, and we have to do this all before sunrise.”

Letting Simon carry him is something he’s never going to get adjusted to, but it gets them to the docks quickly, where Jace abruptly realizes neither of them know how to use a motorized boat. He can’t even drive, technically. Simon steals a kayak, as he’s considering all of this, and lifts it with a weird sort of pride.

Which is how he ends up with Simon swimming in front of the thing, like a poor man’s engine, and the gravity of the situation is the only thing that keeps him from laughing. That and the ship which looms in front of them. 

Up close, his plan is terrible. He guesses they’ll have her in the cages down below, unless Valentine is lecturing her about his plan. But the top deck is pretty abandoned, except for a few guards, and Simon’s senses keep them from running into too much trouble.

“She’s down below,” Simon says every stair they go down, until they’re close to the bottom. Going back is going to be even worse.

But she is, down in the cages, talking to the warlock she once knew. They hide in the shadows, scrunched way too close together and wait. Then the warlock whips her head around. Looking in their direction. 

She hurls something in their direction, but the both of them are already moving. Simon gets to her first, tackling her to the ground harshly, and the speed of it all is the only reason she falls and hits the ground without a fight. He can handle her, so Jace gets Clary out of the cage. She looks fine, upset, but alive, and they hug briefly. 

Simon. Apparently he got the warlock out cold. But everyone else knows they’re here now. Boots are clanging down the stairs, and he steels himself to fight out of it. But Clary grabs his hand and drags him somewhere, Simon following after a pause. She takes them further into the bowels of it, and they pass a few people on the way that they have to deal with.

She’s following the emergency exit signs, he finally realizes, when they get to a door. Clary throws it open and looks out. There’s no way down but jumping, he realizes. It’s not like Valentine cared about anything like that. 

But it’s the only way out, which is why he finds himself holding hands with the both of them as they jump. 

The cold water hits almost as bad as learning he’s part demon. It stings and claims him and he knows he’s got to get back to Clary and Simon.

That’s the last thing he remembers before he washes up on the beach. Alone. It’s nearing sunrise, so he frantically runs up and down the beach, searching for either of them, any sign. But there’s no indication of either of them, so he crosses his fingers and heads inland.

He’s still got the amulet from Magnus, but that won’t protect him from his father’s forces if he looks this obvious. He sprints away from the beach, hoping he can get lost in the crowds until he can figure out what to do. 

They’re tracking him, he can tell, so he tries to give them the slip and gets into a shady looking bar. Hunter’s Moon. There’s a cute bartender working the counter, so he flashes her his best smile and sits down.

She lets him use the phone, even offers a drink, which he gladly accepts. He calls Alec first.

“She make it back?”

“She dragged Simon in a few hours ago. They’ve been out of their minds wondering where you are.”

“They okay?”

“Aldertree wants to try Simon for sheltering you.”

His heart drops out then. This isn’t as bad as Valentine killing the other man, but it could be close. “Magnus?” he asks, after a minute, remembering how much the other man means to Alec.

“Simon didn’t come in with anything linking the three of you, so no.”

“If I come in, will they let Simon go?”

“Aldertree figured it was the best way to get you in,” Alec says after a pause. “If he cared enough to save you, you must care enough to save him.”

He’s not wrong. “Let him know I’ll be there.”

He comes back to the bar to a drink from the smiling bartender. “Everything okay?”

“Gotta go save my stupid vampire,” he replies. He pauses, his brain catching up. “He’s not. He’s not my vampire. He’s just, a friend.”

It’s been a long time since he’s been this awkward. It’s probably Simon, rubbing off on him. But the bartender laughs. And then her smile drops. “I was hoping you could help us look for somebody one of your kind took.”

Though she says it quietly, everyone in the bar turns to look. He braces himself for a fight and asks, “They happen to have a circle branded on their neck?”

“Yeah.”

If Valentine took a werewolf, she’s probably already dead. “I’m sorry. I wish I could help, but I have to get going.”

“For your vampire?” the bartender snarls.

The endless animosity between the two better not get him into a different kind of fight. He pulls down his collar, shows her the lack of a mark. “I didn’t take her. And if I don’t get somewhere,  _ my  _ vampire is going to be hurt for protecting me. So yes, I have to go.”

The pack eyes him as he leaves, and as soon as the door shuts, he’s running. His feet know the way to the Institute easily, and he’s there before he knows it.

The guards treat him like a prisoner of war, and he’s not able to see Clary or Isabelle or Alec before they drag him into a cell. It’s there he’s thrown, quietly and efficiently, into a pen with a waterlogged Simon.

Simon doesn’t move till the guards leave. He’s afraid to say anything, doom himself or the other man, until Simon speaks. “How’d they catch you?”

“Turned myself in.”

With that, Simon whips his head up, invades his space. “Are you fucking kidding me, Jace?” It’s a worn out question, no anger, just disappointment. 

“It’s not like I could run forever. This way they let you go.”

“Oh so that’s what this is, the big sacrifice play from Jace. Gotta stay the hero so no one else gets the limelight.”

“You have to admit I look better in it.”

Simon snorts and then hugs him. “Fuck you too,” he says into Jace’s shoulder.

“Don’t think they allow that down here, but we can try.” It’s a quip that would’ve worked better with a pretty girl, maybe the pretty one in the bar, but Simon just hugs him a bit tighter before letting him go.

“Well, no one could resist that line, Jace, but there’s something I’ve got to tell you before they haul my ass out of here. Luke called, making sure Clary was alright, and to tell me that...Jace, you two aren’t siblings.”

The last three words come out quick, rushed, and Simon’s staring at him, a smile on his face. Luke’s got the police department, he realizes, and it was probably an easy task but. If he’s not...if he’s not Clary’s brother, then he’s not Valentine’s son. Still raised by him but, by the Angel. What else has the man not lied about? 

He keeps staring at Simon, who’s still got the same dumb smile, and it turns out his brain is dumb and can only choke out, “I guess I’m not Luke anymore,” because that’s their inside joke and Simon’s just, looking at him with the biggest smile. 

“I’m still Han,” Simon replies, smug and happy and Jace knows people well enough to know this is a good moment for this. So he leans forward, kisses Simon. Who’s cold and dead and it’s weird — he’s never been with a vampire, somehow. 

He backs up when Simon doesn’t seem to respond, face heating up that he mistook that moment so badly. And then Simon’s got his hands on Jace’s jacket, pulling him into a stronger kiss. 

When they finally break for a breath, Simon looks at him curiously, head tilted to the side. “So I was worried I was pining after another straight boy again.”

Simon’s been pining after him? Not the most surprising thing in the world, but he supposes he’s been a bit distracted by everything in his head to notice. Which, pretty soon, the adrenaline from the moment is going to wear off and he’ll realize all the things that are fucked in his life and he has to deal with.

But for a moment, he can kiss a pretty boy and enjoy it.

So he does.


End file.
